


The sweet sound of Trumpets

by Americaii



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 9/11, Brothers America & Canada (Hetalia), Other, Poor England (Hetalia), Sadness, September 11 Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 07:59:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15968075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Americaii/pseuds/Americaii
Summary: Alfred finds out about the 9/11 attacks at the Buckingham palace and has a breakdown with two good brothers to comfort him with music and hugs.





	The sweet sound of Trumpets

**Author's Note:**

> This I something that I liked the idea but hate my writing but this was actually based off a real event. One day after 9/11 happened, the queen broke protocol and the rules and played The United States anthem outside Buckingham palace in respect and remorse for the Americans in London. This was the first run in history of another Anthem was played other than on country visits.

Alfreds face was emotionless. Staring off in the space of the room, everything was dull. Even early morning sunlight that reflected off the polished fences of Buckingham palace. His cheeks had been sticky and he could taste metal in his mouth.

This was different from the other times. This was searing inside his skin, his throat clogged with heavy smoke and he could still feel rubble under his feet.

But he was never in New York. Not where he should have been. His physical body had been sitting down in a chair, two British officials in front of him and Britain close next to him. The Two officials told him everything that had happened. They went on and on, repeating the events as if Alfred didn't clearly hear the first time.

"Mr. America, we have received the news of the bombing in New York City. We do not know what had happened just yet but that they are suggesting it was a attack purposely planned to kill and destroy. Two planes had struck the World trade center, another plane in the Pentagon and another but we have yet to know where it landed. We offer-"

The world was blank. And Arthur knew this. He knew what he looked like when there was nothing to say, a raging battle fighting inside. He knew.

"Please, gentlemen." Arthur spoke. "Give him some space to breathe. Please, you are dismissed."

The officials had paused then agreed softly, getting up from the chairs and removing themselves from the Countries. Arthur watched them as they left and Alfreds eyes left the floor to the window, seeing the cloudy sky. People crowded at the gates if the palace, and it felt strange to be here.

"Alfred, are you alright?"

The numb feeling in his chest exploded into grief, the feeling of emptiness consumed him.

He broke. Tears had suddenly poured from his eyes, wailing and sobs had left his mouth. He had abandoned the chair for the floor, barely having power to stand. He cried and screams into the navy blue carpet, his fists slamming against the floor over and over. The metallic taste was blood. Not his own, but of all who died only hours ago. People who are still dying. He could fell himself collapsing under the pressure.

Arthur wrapped his arms around his chest and pulled him away from the carpet. He put the man into his lap, his baby brother sitting sideways. He began to cry aswell, but still held his brother closely. "Shhh.. Shhh…" he shushed his brother over again, the American sobbing loudly into his shoulder. Arthurs back leaned against the wall, cradling the crying nation closely.

"We'll find out who they are, Alright? We won't go down without a fight. And I-I'll help you." Arthur whispered closely. The American cried louder, feeling the pain and his bones rack in his body. "Shhh, Alfred, Just let it out."

It was a few minutes before someone had entered the room. When Arthur and Alfred peaked over, Matthew stood there, out of breath and sweating.

"The queen has requested your presence, Arthur."

Arthur stiffened. "My boy, take your brother."

Alfred held on stronger dispite Arthur needing to leave. "Hey there, I won't leave forever. It will only be a moment."

Matthew came over and kneeled down, petting Alfreds hair. "C'mon Baby brother, come to me."

Alfred slowly let go, Letting his brother take his hand and hold him in a brotherly hug as Arthur left the room. Alfred usually would have never just let himself be held like baby but none of it matter at the moment. The only thing that mattered was his people. His country. His family. It was shattering before him.

Before Alfred even noticed, Arthur was petting him softly, rubbing his back.

"The queen has something for you."

-

Arthur and Matthew had helped Alfred up, escorting him down a large hallway to the entrance of the palace. There stood a thousand people with watchful eyes, hands clinging onto the black metal bars. Some were American, Some were British. All here together to witness-

A loud blare of horns and trumpets, and America immediately recognized the tune seared into his heart. The star-spangled banner began to play. He suddenly could hear the crowd sing until he was singing himself. His arm rose and saluted strongly and firmly.

His brothers followed suit behind him. They saw America shaking but said nothing. He saw a crowd across the way, full of people who watched the Americans sing their anthem with sorrow and sadness in their voice and eyes. Arthur felt the deep remorse the people had for the Americans. The stillness in talk and conversation between his citizens had been apparent. He only realized his own angry tears when the song closed and it seemed both crowds, Americans and British, fell silent. A moment to reflect and feel the fear, remorse and loss fill their sad hearts in the cold mornings weather.

He stepped up, and escorted the Nations out of the entrance, back into the palace, the younger feeling guilt for now leaving his citizens behind. For leaving everything behind.

-

Although 17 years later, the exact moments of the attacks still shake him. He can feel it inside his bones.

His mail box, door steps and sidewalks were filled with flags and flowers, Some by people who actually knew who he was, Some by other nations. Canada and Britian always came to him due in the week, to check up. America often spaced out for hours, rethinking everything in detail. Every piece of rubble and every splatter of blood of the bodies of jumpers were removed off sidewalks. Everything.

But now, he felt a common strength in this sad day. He felt the whole nation, his whole being, feel sadness but strong. Defensive, connected, alive in the phrase "Never Again"

So when he got up in the morning, he wished his nation, his brothers and the World, peace. Peace among his people and the world's people.

Peace doesn't kill.

Peace doesn't destroy.

Peace and remembrance lives on this day.

 


End file.
